Ailments
by Lucio O
Summary: Introspection is something people need to grow. Ailments that plague one's mind should be analyzed with profound scrutiny, for one misstep...one mistake can put you deeper into the chasm you wish to get away from. Warning: Overt Projection, Non-Canon, Explores Mental Health, Mature due to nature...Best when listening to "Drowning" by A Boogie ft Kodak Black Instrumental


**Pre-A.N:** This is a fic that harbors intense projection. It took a few good hours to rewrite this and make sure it isn't a ramble of sorts (even though it is :3). I'm not one for trigger warnings, however, this deals with mental health and as previously stated...specifically my mental health that was written whilst listening to the instrumental of **_"Drowning" by A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie ft. Kodak Black_**. I deem this Mature due to the nature of the fanfic.

* * *

 **Ailments**

* * *

 _What is positivity? What is compassion? What is content? What is satisfaction?_

 _What is...what is... **happiness**?_

These were _Ailments_ that plagued Yugi day in, day out. Some days they were **upfront** and **confrontational**. Others, they were **subconscious** and **unanimous with the shadows**. However, there were no differences to these.

Both fueled the black flames, _licking_ and _kissing_ at the **feeble** foundations he had _oh-so anxiously_ tended to in the futile attempts to **preserve** them. Constantly _charring_ and _scarring_ the already healing wounds sustained by the woes of the past, **pain** and **deceit**... **lies** and **betrayals**.

"I am my own person. No one can **own** me unless I allow them."

Both mocked and ridiculed him for his mantra of "keeping his head **_up_** " as the abysmal waters his conscience fought for dear life to stay surfaced upon kept calling him in. They _berated_ him for believing that he was doing anything else but prolonging the situation, hoping that he would inevitably see it as they do...and in doing so, retire the resilient gleam in his eyes and accept the varying hues of blue in the gaping void-like ocean that was waiting to devour him.

"If I can **fake** it till I **make** it, I'll be **fine** in the end."

Both _catalyzed_ the conditions to make the earth _barren_ and **hot** , siphoning all semblance of humidity and moisture from his _deficient_ soul as its feet were riddled with _boils_ from the now scorching sand. Peering down at him, making his dreary soul **cognizant** that there were on lookers...on lookers whom would do naught as he **desperately** searched for a _place of solace_.

"I have to finish that race, even though my legs can no longer **move** , and I'm mere meters away from the finish line...I **need** to go on."

Both stripped the air of _every atom of oxygen_ they could find, effectively **suffocating** his will from exercising whatever power it had left. The will that housed the very _nature_ of his survival, his **desire** to live a long and fulfilling life. Hoping that he would see that the reality of things was...that long fulfilling life was just a _dream_. A facet of his imagination that gave him some _hope_ in the dark world around him. Pushing him to be "ignorant" and "inexperienced" to all things he'd soon enough need to know about.

"There were those before me that had given up on living. Even those that had found a **sense of progression and hope** had **_left it all behind_**...not because they don't want it, but the world we live in. The _**toxicity**_ of the world isn't any place for someone with a sensitive, empathetic nature. It destroys our _**will**_ , a **light shouldn't exist in perpetual darkness**."

* * *

 _Is there something I can **do**? Somewhere I can **grow**? A place I can **thrive**?_

Questions on a _second to second_ basis, that do naught but keep him in a rut of utter dimming light. Dimming light that as has been _tainted_. Dimming light that has _lost its authenticity_. Dimming light that isn't as _ripe and pure_ as it was before.

In retrospect, it **pains** him. He's constantly bewildered by the past and all that _radiated_ from his smile as a child, something that...compared to today is only taxing and tiresome unless he goes out of his way to genuinely do so whilst his mood is bubbly.

He knows that he can identify the stressors in the retrospection. The _Ailments_ that torment him aren't something spontaneous. These were **grown**. Seeded at a young age, when inexperience and ignorance was an _assumption_ , an **axiom**. Only to grow into a forest of morbidity that has the sole purpose of spreading and cursing the rest of his psyche through indoctrination...

This tough for him, for he knows that the factors that play into it all mean _no actual harm_. Yes, he's **learned** and **realized** that those that "reached out" and have "gone the extra mile" for him were _genuine_. However, the ignorance, the stubbornness, the sensitivity, the inexperience they accuse him of due to him not meeting _their_ terms were not something that was inherently his _fault_...and it isn't something he **wishes to excuse** either.

No amount of **berating** or **chastisement** can ever equate to the self-given _deprecative speeches_ about how he's being ungrateful and dishonest to those who are in the position of help. It isn't self-pity that he feels, no, it's _**self-hate**_.

* * *

The blatant analysis of his actions. The questions of _legitimate curiosity and disgust_.

 _"Why are you here?"_

 _"Why did you come back?"_

 _"Why now?"_

 _"What's the point of being here if all you're doing is failing?"_

The heavy weights each question holds sits upon his head, cooing _sweet nothings_ that incite the desire to **give up**.

Yet he still _pushes on_.

He _pushes on_...and in retrospect, sees no **recognition** for it. As he sits in the dark alone and allows the tears to flow intuitively, he's unable to grasp, **_why_**?

Perhaps they want **results**? Perhaps they want **proof** that his continuous strife wasn't for _naught_? To see if they could **capitalize** on the so-called success?

Do they just want him to do what they want him to do at their **time** , at their **pace**... **when** they want him to do it, **where** they want him to do it, **how** they want him to do it; with nothing but a _confirmation and adequate results_?

Then...him going on is just...for their _satisfaction_?

* * *

Were these _Ailments_ the product of a desire to please others in hopes he'd be able to be accepted? Were these _Ailments_ replicating themselves only due to his failure of pleasing those of authority enough?

Could that even be a possibility? Could it be the reason there was no recognition for his _feeble_ attempts to please them?

Would **pleasing** _them_ even _satisfy_ **him**?

They, who know all but _nothing_ ; who possess the **purest form of ignorance**...

They, who have only shown what they wish to _take and not give_ ; who projected their desires with the end **goal of receiving satisfaction**...

He split his soul into _two_ in order to survive in a climate in which, had he stayed whole, would've died due to the inability of coping with fellow students with natures much different from the peers he had grown up with until that point.

He continued to strive high and far, as he was verbally abused at home. Outright _refusing_ to allow it to bring him down.

He had dreams of being a successful businessman of an international corporation based in a foreign land. A dream that, to him gave him a reason to _indulge_ in the whims of other's satisfaction, as it was only a means to **his desired end goal**.

However, that began to warp and changed little by little as he was constantly told that it would _never happen_ , that it was something **intangible**.

So as it warped, he found an undying and unique love for writing after reading extensive and elaborate plots from what seemed like ordinary people on the internet. They gave him a new, _tangible_ aspiration: **becoming a writer**.

* * *

He began falling in love with English as much as he did with Science, and his love only grew as he rushed to his desktop to try his hand at creating his own plots.

As he started this at the ripe age of thirteen, he would have a long way to go. A short ten chapter story he'd turned into a series was quite cringe-worthy as he looked back at it, and the criticisms he had received were more than warranted. In fact, they made him revise it and though there were those who loved the original better, he would go on to have it as his most read story out of the ongoing series and of the several stories he has written as he grew older; with an international audience and receiving much love.

Now, _he sees himself as a writer_ , and because of life, hasn't been able to write as much and as well as he wishes to. However, that doesn't keep him down. He writes as a way to **keep fighting**.

He has learned that extravagance and materialistic things don't make people happy. Doing what he enjoys and living with those he loves is what is important.

Thus, with the burdens of the _Ailments_ he is currently under and the confliction with those of authority, he's slowly deteriorating; much to his own displeasure.

He has no guide to tell him which way to go, and only Time will tell if decisions that were made are fortuitous or detrimental.

 _With a chance of being homeless, still without a job and still in a state of being in school, he's in a rut of unfortunate events._

He knows he must **purge** the _Ailments_ , first and foremost. However, will they let him? Will they allow him to choose what would satisfy him instead of them? Will he be able to have a chance to choose what he wants and what'd be best for him and his desires?

He'll never know until it happens.

* * *

 **A.N:** To me, this is the new " _Mad World_ " I've written. Why? Well, I made " _Mad World_ " with the intent of showing the dark nature of the world we live in. " _Ailments_ " is supposed to be the complimentary opposite. As " _Mad World_ " was extrospection, " _Ailments_ " is introspection. I had to have an update for this turbulent month and though my current project " _Protect You_ " is what I should be updating instead (I can't actually, this upcoming chapter is a bit thematic and very poignant to the plot of the story and the relationships of the characters currently in the spotlight) this to me is a lot more relevant and important for me to write.

So till next time, readers. I do hope you review, it helps me grow as a writer and they do genuinely make me feel happy and appreciated that people do take the time out to help me grow.

 _Ja ne_


End file.
